Acton's Feud eBook

Philips took down the offending list, and told Cotton
the house-master’s opinions. Jim Cotton
had not very quick feelings, but contempt can pierce
the shell of a tortoise, and as Philips innocently
retailed the message, the secretary of the Penfold
Tablet Fund knew there was one man who held him a
cad.

CHAPTER XXIII

BOURNE v. ACTON

Jack had gone to London with his patron on Thursday.
On Saturday morning Acton went to Aldershot, carrying
with him the hopes and good wishes of the whole of
St. Amory’s, and at night the school band had
met him at the station. They (the band) struggled
bravely—­it was very windy—­with
“See, the Conquering Hero comes!” in front
of the returned hero, who was “chaired”
by frenzied Biffenites. The expected had happened.
Acton had annihilated Rossal, Shrewsbury, and Harrow,
and in the final had met the redoubtable Jarvis, from
“Henry’s holy shade.” The delightful
news circulated round St. Amory’s that Acton
had “made mincemeat” of Jarvis. He
had not, but after a close battle had scrambled home
first; he had won, and that was the main thing.

As Acton walked into chapel on Sunday morning with
Worcester, Corker got scant attention to his sermon;
the fags to a man were thinking of Acton’s terrible
left. The gladiator lived in an atmosphere of
incense for a whole day.

As Phil Bourne was finishing breakfast on Monday morning
his fag brought him his letters, and, after reading
his usual one from home, he turned his attention to
another one, whose envelope was dirty, and whose writing
was laboriously and painfully bad amateur work.

“Rotherhithe,” said Phil, looking at the
post-mark. “Who are my friends from that
beauty spot?”

I give the letter in all its fascinating simplicity.

“Rotherhithe,
Sunday.

“Dear Sir,
“I was sory as how I did not see
you on thursday night when you
came with Acting to Covent garden to do a small hedging
in the linkinsheer handicap. I think since you
did a fare settle about the gunn and pade up my little
bill like a mann you would deserve the show at the
“Kindumm” and the blow out at that swell
tuck shop as Mister Acting said he was going to treat
you to for coming with him to london. I hopes
you enjoyed em and As how that stiff necked old corker
your beak—­won’t never find out.
“As you gave him the Propper slip
and no Errer your beastly Chummy
“Daniel Raffles.”

The letter had evidently been meant for Jack, but
had naturally reached Phil, since the envelope was
directed to “Mr. Bourne.”

Bourne, when he had struggled to the end of this literary
gem, dropped the letter like a red-hot coal.
Was it a hoax, or had Jack really gone up to town,
as the letter said?

The “Mister Acting” made Phil’s
heart sink with dire forebodings.

“Go and find young Bourne, Hinton, and tell
him to come here to my study at once, or as soon as
he’s finished breakfast.”